


Faire Day

by Maggie_the_Red_Vane_Trevelyan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggie_the_Red_Vane_Trevelyan/pseuds/Maggie_the_Red_Vane_Trevelyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa Amell is excited to leave the tower for the Summerday festival in Redcliffe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Biscuits and Breastbands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Bioware owns all. Just mucking about the sandbox 
> 
> This story was originally intended to be a roughly 3,000 word one-shot. Lexa and Cullen, however, had other ideas. This is the first time I’ve ever attempted a fan fiction (or fiction of any sort, really.) Thanks for reading! I appreciate comments/feedback, as this is rapidly becoming larger than I anticipated. My whole inspiration for this story came from the old Celtic song “She Moved Through the Fair;” particularly the version by Celtic Thunder. Once again, thanks for reading!

Summerday. It was Summerday!

  
Lexa vaulted out of her bed in the apprentice’s quarters and sped towards Jowan. 

“Wake up, wake up!” she yelled at the groggy mage.

He rolled over and glared at her.

“Andraste’s ass, Amell…why are you yelling at me?”

Lexa shot him an agitated glance. “Get up you nerd,” she hissed fiercely. “It’s Summerday! How can you be so calm about this? WE GET TO LEAVE THE TOWER.”

Jowan snorted his acknowledgement and rolled back over. “Its hours til we leave Lexa, and I, for one, don’t intend to be exhausted on our only day of freedom. Go away.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Lexa rolled her eyes, gathered her clean robes and toiletries, and flounced off toward the bathroom.

She climbed into the large stone tub and relaxed as the warm water washed away the chill of the Tower in early morning. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander about the excitement of the Summerday Festival. It was a special privilege for the apprentices her age to attend the celebration in Redcliffe. Granted, it seemed like the entire battalion of Templars stationed at Kinloch Hold would accompany them, but even the thought of her ever-vigilant watchers couldn’t spoil the excitement she felt at being free from the Tower for a day.

She wondered what it would be like. What would she eat? What would the merchant’s stalls hold? She’d heard about the flower garlands the sisters in the Chantry spent weeks preparing to decorate the town. When she was younger, she watched the lights from paper lanterns that dotted the sky at sundown and longed to stand beneath them as they rose above the water. She couldn’t wait to dance, actually dance to the ready music she knew would fill the air all day. Lexa heard the occasional lap harp played by one of the Senior Enchanters in the Tower, but to hear real music! She couldn’t contain her joy, and a small giggle slipped out and echoed off the enormous walls of the bathing chamber.

Her water growing tepid, Lexa washed quickly and dressed before the damp could chill her again. She ran her linen towel vigorously through her thick brown hair, relaxing into the lavender scent it left on her damp head. Plaiting it quickly and pinning back the unruly shorter hair at her crown and temples, Lexa put on her favorite robes. They were red; slit up the left side to allow her freer movement with elbow length sleeves and a scoop neck. She loved the way her light olive skin looked in the color and the way the long column of her neck appeared graceful with her dark hair swept back. Satisfied, she grabbed her dirty clothes and towel and headed off in search of breakfast.

Lexa was just about back to her dorm to drop off her bathing accessories before following the fabulous smells emanating from the dining hall when she heard the tell-tale clanking of a Templar headed her direction. She huffed a bit at the impending loss of privacy, but as she turned the hallway, forgot her annoyance completely as she crashed right into 6 feet of solid silverite plate. Lexa bounced off the Templar like a bird hitting a window. Stunned and disoriented, she sat on the ground where she landed, surrounded by dirty smallclothes, soap, and a damp bath towel, trying to catch her breath. As she looked to identify the battering-ram that was her assailant, her face and neck turned the same bright cherry red as her robes.

“Of course, it WOULD be him,” Lexa thought. “Here I am, blushing like a twit and surrounded by my dirty underwear. Absolutely fabulous.” With her heart in her throat, she looked at him and hoped he couldn’t see that she blushed for more than just her underwear. His green eyes were full of discomfort, shock, and…mirth? Did he think this was funny? Her mortification slowly gave way to irritation (at herself for letting him see how humiliated she was) and an armored gauntlet reached out to help her up.

“Oh…oh my goodness. I am so sorry miss. I did-didn’t hear anyone in the corridor. Please forgive me,” Cullen said as he hauled her to her feet.

Lexa made a pretense of dusting herself off, hoping he would not see the breast band displayed in all its glory next to her foot. She looked up and could tell by the beet-red coloring on his face he had, indeed noticed the armful of unmentionables strewn about the hall.

“Don’t mention it,” she mumbled to the floor at his flustered apology. “I was on my way to breakfast.”

Cullen shifted his weight and grabbed a sock out of her hair. He handed it gingerly to her, doing his best to avoid eye contact. “I don’t th-think this belongs on your ear,” he attempted to joke as she furiously swiped the garment from him and hastily retrieved the rest of her clothing from the hallway. She tossed a look over her shoulder as she sped back to the dorm. He continued to stand in the middle of the hallway, and through his mortification, she swore she saw him chuckle.

-ooooOOOOOOoooo-

It was early, even for him, when Cullen woke. The sky held no hint of the sun yet, and his room was damp and chilly. He reached over to grab a candle only to realize his fire died sometime in the night. Cold and stiff, he grabbed the flint and tinder from his desk and went to work restoring the small bit of heat to his room.

Fire started and candles lit, Cullen made his way over to the basin by the window splashed water on his face. In the mirror, he could see the circles under his eyes were dusky this morning. He should try to go back to bed, he knew, but the excitement and apprehension of the coming day kept him thoroughly awake. It was his first watch away from the Tower, and he was nervous. Excited too, though he could hardly admit it. He wasn’t going to jeopardize the safety of the mages in his charge of the safety of the villagers just because he was looking forward to leaving the oppressive stone walls for a day. With a sigh, Cullen finished his toilet, took his lyrium, and began the ritualistic donning of his armor. Since sleep eluded him, he might as well make himself useful, he thought. Geared up, he headed toward breakfast, hoping the kitchen staff was up early in preparation for the day’s outing.

After a few fresh biscuits and a huge cup of tea, Cullen felt righted and ready for Summerday. As he aimlessly meandered the hallways, he heard a giggle echo off the walls in the apprentice’s dormitory. Wondering who on earth could possibly be awake this early, he headed off in search of the mage, knowing there was probably no one around to guard. Finally, as he passed the dorm, he was unexpectedly waylaid as something solid and red ran right into the middle of his chest plate.

When his ears stopped ringing, Cullen looked about to see just what had almost knocked him over. What he saw, on the floor, was a mage—fresh from the bath and slowly turning an intense shade of pink. As his head cleared he took in the pretty red robes, the long plaited dark brown hair, and the elegant slender neck, and…oh. It was her. It was Amell. And she was surrounded by underwear.

He reached to help her up and mumbled something…some incoherent babbling apology, as she dusted herself off. Maker’s breath, was that a breast band by her foot? Was that HER breast band…Cullen made a strangled sound in the back of his throat as he tried, unsuccessfully, to keep his face from answering the blush in hers, as they stood together in petrified mortification. For all this was one of the more embarrassing things to happen to him since he arrived at the Tower, (his life really,) he couldn’t help but notice that not only was she as flustered as he, but she managed to get one of her socks stuck in her damp hair. He chuckled a bit as he gave it back to her, trying to lessen the tension between them. She made an embarrassed grab at it, and he could smell the lavender on her hair. She was close enough now that he could see, underneath the layers of blush, her dewy skin, fresh and sweet from her bath. Cullen hoped she couldn’t hear his heart trying to beat through his chest, or see the pulse race at his neck as she gathered her small clothes and hurried off. He knew he should follow; she had no one else watching her, but he chuckled to himself, knowing that as uncomfortable as he was, she would need a moment to compose herself. Honestly, he did too. A chance to catch his breath and assume his role as Templar…not babbling idiot. After all, it wasn’t his underwear all over the hall…and Cullen laughed silently to himself as he set off to wait for her at breakfast.


	2. To the Boats!

“All right, ladies and gentlemen! Today is not only about the festivities, it is about safety! Do not forget who you are—the vows you made—just because you are not in the Tower. Remember: we not only protect others from mages; we protect mages from themselves and everyone else.” Gregoire looked his troops over thoroughly as they assembled in the foyer in preparation for departure. “Keep a special eye on the apprentices who have not been before. They are particularly excitable and are not always capable of containing it. For Maker’s sake, however, BE GENTLE. Do not scare the townsfolk and DO NOT intimidate your charges.” As he continued down the line, a few of the newer Templars looked distinctly uncomfortable at his warning for caution. With an inward sigh at their youth and inexperience, he added “There is little reason you should employ your full talents on an apprentice who might shoot a few accidental sparks in the air. Scaring them to death will only make things worse. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Knight-Commander!” came the general response.

“Good. In that case, those of you required to be in full plate, suit up. The rest of you, stay close to your mentors and observe them carefully. Next year, you will be expected to take a full role in the guard. Do try, however,” he added dryly, “to enjoy yourselves a little.”

“Dismissed!” called the Knight-Commander, just in time to see the First Enchanter enter the room.

“Everything in order?” Irving asked.

“They’re ready. I believe, though dour as a few of the new recruits are, they understand not to terrorize the apprentices,” said Gregoire.

“I am sure you are right,” said Irving, in his scratchy, rough voice. “For all their seriousness, as soon as they get to Redcliffe and realize no one summoned a lake demon or began spouting the virtues of blood magic, they will calm down. They always do,” he chuckled a bit.

Gregoire rolled his eyes at his mage counterpart “Undoubtedly,” he huffed as the two ambled back toward their offices to enjoy the quiet of an almost-empty Tower.

-ooooOOOOOOoooo-

Cullen scrambled out of his armor and into his tunic as quickly as possible. He was not stupid, really. Why then, did he spend thirty minutes shrugging on his full plate this morning? Of course he was going to learn and observe! With a sigh at his foolishness and over-eagerness, he allowed himself a moment of relief when he realized that, as this was his first Summerday, he was allowed to enjoy the festival a bit, and could relax a bit without the full weight of his normal responsibilities. He shook himself, then, and recalled that though he may not be on duty per se, he was still expected to help keep an eye out for trouble and admonished himself for briefly forgetting his duty. Throwing the black tunic over his breeches, he glanced quickly in his mirror and took pride in the way the embroidered silver Templar insignia glowed against the dark fabric. Never one for vanity, he nevertheless thought he cut almost a dashing figure in his smart uniform. One last glance to make sure everything was firmly in place, Cullen grabbed his gloves and headed toward the boats that would take them all to Redcliffe.

-ooooOOOOOOoooo-

Jowan grabbed Lexa and ran down the hallway at a breakneck speed, hurtling them both toward the great doors as if his life depended on it.

“See? What did I tell you? I tried to wake you up, but nooooo. You insisted on lazing about in bed, and now we’re going to miss the boats!” Lexa chafed at him between gasps of air.

“Oh come off it, Amell. I’m doing my best. Besides, I wasn’t the one who refused to leave the dorms. You’ve been in a state since you got back from your bath this morning, and it was your refusal to go down to breakfast that made us late. NOT my sleeping in,” he chided.

Fine, she thought. Point to you, Jowan. Lexa kilted up her robes and made a mad dash the last of the way to the doors, trying desperately not to think about her earlier mortification and the way Cullen’s ears turned pink at the sight of her underwear. How could she be expected to sit through an entire meal knowing he was standing by watching?

As the mages came to a stop in front of the door, Lexa saw a lone Templar hurry up from the other side of the room. The last of their guard for the day, she supposed. She held back as gasp as she realized who it was. Cullen, looking resplendent in his black Templar tunic, black gloves and dark breeches. Jowan caught her open-mouthed appreciation at their new companion and could not hide his contemptuous eye roll. She glared furiously at him, willing him to keep his mouth shut.

“C’mon, Lexa. A Templar? Really,” Jowan chided in her ear. “You can’t be serious.”

As the flush spread on her face, something clicked. “Is he why we missed breakfast? IS HE WHY WE ALMOST MISSED THE FESTIVAL?” Jowan’s voice was low, but not low enough, and his furious whispering echoed off the stone walls. Lexa saw the back of Cullen’s neck flush as he realized exactly what Jowan said. Thank the Maker they make Templars so stoic, Lexa thought. Had Cullen acknowledged what he heard, Lexa thought she might just die from embarrassment. As it was, she hoped the floor would swallow her and end her misery. No such luck, however, as the great doors opened and the two mages followed Cullen to the edge of Lake Calenhad.

Rushing down to the boats, Cullen saw the Knight-Captain give him a furious glance at his tardiness, and Cullen felt ashamed at letting his superior down. Thankfully, his commander was too busy coordinating all the mages to spare him more than the briefest glance, and Cullen huddled into the skiff nearest him. Taking up a spot near the back, he relaxed a little as they prepared to shove off. Just as he let his guard down a bit, the boat rocked considerably as two passengers scrambled on just in time. He looked up to see Lexa freeze as she realized where she was. She cast a baleful glance at Cullen, and then proceeded to plop down next to him on the bench. The mage she was with—Jowan, that was it—the one who embarrassed her in the hall a few minutes earlier, took up the last spot in the prow of the boat and pointedly ignored his friend and the Templar. Cullen pulled his cloak in tight, trying to ignore the close quarters and fervently prayed to cease reliving the morning’s activities. He felt sure Lexa could see it in his face when he recalled the image of her dewy and pink and flustered and adorable and…Maker help him…he turned away and stared out at the water.

Lexa saw the boat ride would go one of two ways: either they both sat in mortified silence and tried not to look at each other, or they broke passed their shyness and tried to enjoy themselves. She made up her mind that the latter sounded the much better option and swallowed back her fear. She was out of the Tower and nothing would dampen her excitement. If she was honest with herself, really, it was exciting to be sitting so close to Cullen. She could smell the crisp leather of his gloves and the soft velvet of his tunic brushing against her arm made her tingle. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward him and broke the silence.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” she said.

Cullen turned to her blankly.

Lexa took another breath and continued. “We have a long ride to spend together, and I would rather not we both sit here thinking about my underwear.”

A look of shock followed by one of wry amusement crossed Cullen’s face as he realized what she said. Then he chuckled, and visibly relaxed, turning to look her straight on.

“I-I must admit,” he began quietly, “I was completely un-unprepared to run into anyone that early, let alone someone with dirty laundry in their hair.”

His jest made her giggle, and she relaxed as the tension between them left. In an effort to remain light, Lexa continued her conversation.

“Are you excited? About the festival, I mean?”

He shrugged noncommittally and smiled at her.

Much to Cullen’s surprise, Amell was easy to talk to. Her genuine enthusiasm sparked his excitement as she peppered him with questions about Redcliffe, about the festival, about the boat ride, and anything else that seemingly crossed her mind. As the morning sun warmed them, Cullen relaxed and let her talk as they drifted smoothly across the lake.


	3. Sausage on a Stick

Stiff, chilled, and a little damp, Lexa unfolded herself from Cullen’s side as they docked in Redcliffe. Though the senior enchanters called up wind to speed the journey, an hour on the water was long enough. Lexa found herself wobbling to and fro as she made land, and felt her stomach rebel as she tried desperately to gain her footing.

“Amell, you look positively green!” sneered Jowan. “Can’t handle a little boat ride?”

With barely a glance back at her friend, Lexa bolted toward the nearest bush and unloaded the entire contents of her stomach. When she pulled up, Jowan was beside her, offering his water skin. “Thanks,” she said dryly, taking a large mouthful, rinsing the foul taste out.

“You should have eaten breakfast,” her friend said. “I’m sorry I laughed at you. I didn’t think you were actually going to…well…do that.”

“Oh never mind. I’m alright. Just a bit motion sick, is all. Didn’t you hear about what happened to the Templars that brought me in to the circle the first time?”

Jowan shook his head.

“Oh, Maker! I was only five, you know, and never set foot on the water my whole life. We just made it across the lake when I took two steps across the threshold of the Tower, turned to the man escorting me, and threw up all over the front of his armor. Claimed it soaked his leather straps and the smell stuck with him for weeks!”

“Ha! Well, I’m sure it couldn’t have happened to a nicer fellow. Good for you, Amell.” Jowan’s laughter rang above the boats and several of the senior Templars glared their direction. “Fine, fine. Ruin my fun then,” Lexa heard Jowan mutter under his breath. “Let’s go, Lexa. Time to enjoy our freedom!”

Lexa felt herself pulled back to standing and laughed at the faces Jowan cast at the Templars behind them.

-ooooOOOOOOoooo-

Cullen gathered by the shore with the other Templars waiting for orders. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed Lexa crouched over the bushes and wondered briefly what that was all about, but a cursory glance assured him she was fine as Jowan handed her something to drink. Poor girl looked a bit pale, Cullen thought, but turned his full attention back to his superiors for the day’s orders.

Surprisingly, Cullen found he had most of the day to himself. The Templars on duty stationed themselves in a perimeter about the village, but the rest of his companions were free to roam the fair as they wished. Apparently, this was as good a way as any to keep evenly dispersed with an eye out for the mages. Cullen removed his cloak and gloves and left them at the boats and made his way into the throng of people in attendance. His stomach growled reminding him that breakfast had been oh-so-long ago, and Cullen made off toward the area of the grounds he knew the food vendors gathered in. Many years ago, before he joined the Chantry, Cullen and his family spent a week at Redcliffe Castle every year with Arl Eamon during the Summerday festival. His older brothers spent most of the week locking him in various larders and outhouses, or stranding him in the middle of a crowd of party-goers, leaving him to the mercy of the residents of Redcliffe. Thankfully, nothing overly exciting or terrifying happened, but Cullen grew up wary of the huge throngs of people that gathered about the lake side this time of year. As he grew close to the dining stalls, a peal of laughter rang out above the crowed and he craned his neck to find the source.

Lexa looked absolutely radiant. She recovered her color and the laughter surrounding her made her gleaming brown eyes sparkle. She was brandishing some sort of sausage on a stick at Jowan, giggling brightly and chasing the other mage about the booths. Only when Jowan turned to freeze Lexa’s lunch, did Cullen step in. Regretful as he was to see the brilliant countenance of the pretty mage dampen, he knew the villagers would not appreciate the overt use of magic. Redcliffe tolerated the mages, but only so long as they behaved themselves, and openly turning lunch into a frozen block of ice would not be looked on fondly. Jowan saw Cullen cut through the crowd a split second before he ruined Lexa’s lunch, and scowled. He said something to Lexa Cullen did not catch and darted off into the crowd. Lexa appeared sorry to see her playmate go so abruptly, but as she turned to see the reason Jowan abandoned her, a huge smile split her face, and she beamed up at Cullen.

“Cullen!” she yelled, brandishing her purchase in his face. “Look! I bought it all by myself!”

Cullen stepped back, not wanted to get smacked in the face by the enthusiastic mage. “Where on earth did you manage to find one that…well…big?” he gulped at here. His collar felt tight.

Lexa waved vaguely behind her. “I don’t remember, really, but I can’t eat the whole thing myself. I was trying to convince Jowan to split it with me, but seeing as he’s run off, are you hungry?”

The thought of sharing a meal with her, instead of watching as she ate, made his stomach flutter and his palms go clammy. As he was about to refuse, however, his stomach rumbled in protest and he was sheepishly forced to admit he could use a bite. Cursing himself for leaving his cloak at the dock, he gestured to a nearby tree where they might relax a bit and enjoy their lunch. He guided her through the crowd and held the proffered sausage as she spread her cloak for them to sit on.

“Pardon me,” Cullen began tentatively, “but I must apologize for leaving my cloak at the boats. I…I appreciate, well, that is…”

Lexa laughed. “It’s perfectly alright, Cullen! I don’t mind. It’s not as though mine’s made out of some precious fur or something. It’s the standard-issue Circle wear. If I wreck it, I can just get a new one,” she winked at him.

Cullen blushed and held out her proudly purchased lunch. He watched as she ate, taking in the sight of the sun playing in her rich, dark hair, and followed the graceful lines of her neck as she turned her head taking in everything from their perch under the tree. Her skin glowed in the early afternoon light and she laughed in wonder at all the new sights. In between bites, she assaulted Cullen with more questions—he thought her out after their boat ride; but her endless curiosity would not be sated, and he did his best to answer her without stammering too much.

They took turns eating companionably, and only once did Lexa catch him staring at her. He was watching her hands move as she talked; graceful and light, with a mole in the crease by her right thumb. He looked up at her when he realized she quit talking. Cullen saw her eyes darken and a small, knowing smile play across her lips. She was a far cry from the blushing girl he had run into only earlier that morning—there was something in her gaze that made his blood run hot beneath his skin. He cleared his throat, trying desperately to come up with something to say before he flushed to the tips of his toes. Failing completely to restart their light-hearted conversation, Cullen turned his head and wished desperately to disappear. He could feel her close, as they sat on her cloak, noticing suddenly that their legs were pressed together on the confines of their makeshift blanket. He felt her heat; smelled the lavender again from her bath this morning, and jumped up suddenly as though he’d been stung by a bee. Lexa giggled at him and offered her hand so he could help her up. He took it, and hauled her, rather unceremoniously to her feet. She lost her balance as he vigorously helped her up and propelled forward into him, almost knocking him back onto the ground. At that, they both laughed and the heat between them stabilized. Cullen handed Lexa back her cloak and she put her arm through his. Surprised by the contact, Cullen stiffened a moment before being pulled gaily toward a ribbon merchant by one very enthusiastic apprentice. With a groan, Cullen let himself be led into the thrall.


End file.
